


Mercy Streets

by Stainglasseyes



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abuse, Abuse is NOT between Eren and Levi, Adult!Eren, Angst, Beating, Bruises, Cuts, Dark, Dark Humor, Depression, Domestic Violence, Drama, Eventual Smut, Gore, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad Backstories, Titan-Haired Eren Yeager, Trigger Warnings, Triggers, Young adult!Levi, high school sweethearts, punkish!Levi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 07:59:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2685224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stainglasseyes/pseuds/Stainglasseyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>``...nowhere in the corridors of pale green and grey<br/>nowhere in the suburbs<br/>in the cold light of day</p>
<p> there in the midst of it so alive and alone<br/>words support like bone</p>
<p> dreaming of mercy st..<br/>wear your inside out...<br/>dreaming of mercy........``</p>
<p>                                                     -Peter Gabriel</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HEY GUYS! long time I haven't posted anything!  
> so anyone who was following my sanity story, I will not be finishing it because honestly, it was shitty. the plot was shitty, the writing was shitty, just everything about it was utter shit. ANYWAYS!!!
> 
> My lovely friend and I are going to be writing a new fanfiction which is a million times better(i`ll be writing Levi`s P.O.V and she`ll be writing Eren`s P.O.V)  
> ! hopefully we`ll be posting every 2 Fridays!  
> ALSO! I love eruri just as much as I love Ereri so I'm not hating on the ship or anything!! so don't get mad at me >.>
> 
> So here it is, Enjoy!
> 
> (Trigger warnings)

 Mercy Streets

Chapter 1

 

Levi’s P.O.V

 

_I looked around my surroundings._

_A Street._

_It was cold... Dark.... Busy....yet–_

_Lonely._

_The people on the street walked towards the direction I was standing, and I couldn’t help but feel a ghostly chill run through my body. As they passed by, their shoulders bumped into mine, with an air that showed they couldn’t care any less.  I looked at the direction they were walking in. It was just another long narrow street so I turned back around to my original position._

_There were buildings that lined the street, varying in size as you looked towards the horizon. They were all dull and plain; nothing special about them what so ever. Each building had their specific shade of grey to them, each one slightly lighter or darker from the other. Over all though, they looked the same. I found it odd there was no colour. Not even greyish blue; only black and white. There were also lamp posts that spread across the street. They illuminated the street which gave is a very somber feel to it. Just from the sight, a gloomy weight began to pile onto my chest and shoulders, making it harder to breath. The oxygen here was very cold, thick and humid; the kind of humid that got into your bones, making you colder than you already were._

_I felt a strong gravitational pull to move. Taking a deep breath of the cool crisp oxygen, I took a small step forward. Then another. And another. I walked down the street slowly, viewing my surroundings even though it was just a street that led to nowhere. I still didn’t understand where I was or what I was doing. It was as if I were in a trance. As if nothing mattered for once. As if I were... free?_

_The mention of freedom made my face cringe but…_

_I couldn’t help but feel my face was trapped. Bringing my hands up to my face, I touched it. A smooth, cold, plastic like texture was what I felt instead of the expected flesh. I was panicked for a moment, then I realised the truth. My face was concealed with a mask._

_A mask..._

_Just as the thought reached me, I noticed that almost everyone that was around me disappeared except for a few that also wore a mask. They all stood there, as if waiting to be awoken from their own trance. I was truly confused as to what all this meant. Was I dreaming?_

_I pinched my arm._

_That did nothing, except to cause me pain. I sighed. Where was I supposed to go from here? Then, that pulling feeling returned so I continued to walk down the street. As I took each step, I felt my face stiffen, almost like the mask was merging onto my skin._

_I heard something shatter behind me._

_I turned around to see all the masked figures crumble into little pieces of ceramic and dust. There was one person that still stood though. He had messy chestnut brown hair that barely reached his shoulders. The sad thing was I couldn’t see his face for it was concealed by the exact same emotionless white mask I wore. I opened my mouth to speak but my jaw was locked in place. I tried to move but was stuck in my spot. I could only move in the opposite direction. So that was exactly what I did; walk down the empty street._

_More weight began to build up onto my chest and shoulders..._

_After what had felt like hours, I found myself in front of a petite house. There was a short picket fence that surrounded the house but then something struck me. There were no windows, no plants surrounding the land, not even a door. You really couldn’t consider it a house. This city gets more and more depressing by the minute._

_I walked up to the place and ran my hand along the wall as if to look for the metal handle that would open a rich wooden door, though in reality, there was nothing there and I wasn’t quite sure what I was hoping to achieve. Not like I’d magically teleported inside if I found this “invisible” handle to the “invisible” door, but the moment I blinked, I found myself inside the house._

_mirrors...._

_...Everywhere._

_I was completely and utterly surrounded by hundreds of mirrors._

_The worst part was..._

_There was no escape..._

_I ran to one of the mirrors and banged my fist against it. I cried for help but just like before, nothing escaped my chapped lips that were frozen in place by the mask. I felt as if I would suffocate. As if I’d be crushed by the mirrors. My mind was racing with a blizzard of thoughts. Adrenaline was boiling within my veins. Why couldn’t I get out? Why was I even here? What is this all supposed to mean? I kept running around, hitting the mirrors around me as if I could break them. As if I deserved to leave... wait... what?_

_...deserved?_

_I stopped everything I was doing. I stopped thinking. I stopped trying. I just stood there. I just stood there and glared at my reflection. I was dressed in a black hoodie, black skinny jeans, and black converses. Everything was black. Since I was dressed completely in black attire, including my raven hair, my pale hands and the white mask stood out tremendously. My knuckles were shaded lightly with the colours blue, purple, yellow, green and brown... bruises. I grazed my fingers against them. Where had they come from?_

_That was something else I wasn’t sure of either._

_I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t look at myself. I simply couldn’t. I didn’t know why I was getting so worked up over my own image. Something so simple shouldn’t hurt so much. I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. No Levi. Don’t cry. Don’t you fucking cry. I took several deep breaths to try and calm myself. My hand inched up my chest and gripped tightly at the warm hoodie, right where my heart was... and slowly, I opened my eyes._

_My head tilted slightly. I watched myself and the others. Others that looked just like me arrayed between the different dimensions of each reflection. We all stared at each other, watching our every movement. The funny thing was though; I felt what the others felt. Some in agonising pain while the others were in complete bliss. With all these emotions I couldn’t even feel my own. Then something snapped in my mind. All those thoughts that were racing in my head... they weren’t mine. They belonged to them. I was just their puppet. Moving and breathing for them for they can’t. And they think and feel for me. Something I can’t seem to do myself._

_My thought process was cut off when I noticed something._

_There was a small crack in the mirror._

_That wasn’t there before. Was it?_

_I walked up to the crack and ran my hand along the sharp edge. Ouch. The mirror had cut my finger; it was my fault though for putting my finger against it. Crimson blossoms formed on my finger and dripped down. I brought my finger to my mouth in hopes of sucking the blood away but I was met with the mask.  The blood was now smeared on the lips of the mask._

_I didn’t know what to do at this point. Was I stuck here till I died? Would I wake up to find myself at home? Or would I have to find a way to break out of this room? There was a crack in the mirror. That meant it could break. I could escape._

_Determined, I dug my finger into the crack and tried to pull the mirror apart. I clawed, scratched, anything that could possibly destroy it. I pounded my fist violently over it. Break, god damn it, break! I let out a hoarse scream and hit the mirror one last time. I ended up falling to my knees and rested the side of my face against the chilly mirror. There was blood everywhere. My fingers were stained with the vibrant red. A web of thin cuts covered my fingers. Blood easily flowed through the network. My nails were chipped and broken, pieces of them scattered across the floor, swimming in the pool of blood that was beginning to form.  A fresh bruise spread across my hands._

_I turned my head slightly so I could see myself from the corner of my eyes. My crystal blue eyes stood out against the red that was beginning to glaze over top of my scleras. I felt so tired. The after effects from having such an adrenaline rush flooding out of my system really put a toll on me. That’s all I felt though. I couldn’t feel the searing pain that should be spreading along the nerves in my hands. I simply couldn’t feel anything at this point. Not even what the others felt._

_I felt.... numb..._

~*~

I shot up gasping. Beads of sweat searched down my forehead. I desperately looked around my surroundings. I was home. I was saf-

No...

Memories from hours ago resurfaced and I looked down at my hands. From what I could make out in the darkness was that the cuts from the odd dream were gone, the blood was gone but the bruises were still there. At least I remember where those bruises came from now. I turned my head to the other side of the bed. It was empty. He wasn’t here... He must be downstairs... Thank god.

I got out of bed and tip toed to the bathroom. The moment I flicked the lights on, I squinted. My eyes were blinded by the bright white light reflecting on the equally white bathroom tiles. After my eyes adjusted, I closed the door behind me and faced my reflection.

My eyes widened and my breath hitched.

I looked dead.

My eyes were red and puffy. I also had horrible dark circles, making my eyes look more sunken in than they already were.

_“P-please! S-s-stop! I didn’t do anything wrong!” I pleaded._

 My lip was split, dry blood surrounding the cut, residue of the blood smeared along my chin.

_I hissed as I fell to the floor and bit my lip. Hard. The taste of metallic flooded my mouth while hot liquid ran down my lip and chin._

 A bruise had formed on the right side of my forehead. Different shades of purples, reds, greens, yellows as well as other colours decorated it.

_I cried out when my forehead met the wall, the sound of a loud thud echoing in my ear drums. Everything went blurry from there on. My head was pounding like crazy and my vision was filtered by black spots that kept forming._

A red hand print was slapped across my cheek. I slid my hand up to it and bit my swollen lip. The hand print was much larger than my own frail hand.

_The sound of skin on skin contact snapped my back into reality. My cheek stung tremendously as I looked up at him with angry teary eyes._

 Another bruise ran along the left side of my jaw. The colours looked proud against my skin, their vibrancy showing off perfectly in the bright light.

_I felt a strong fist hit my jaw line and I swore I heard a cracking sound. The pain traveled up my face and my lower jaw. Please tell me it wasn’t dislocated. Please!_

 I looked at myself sadly. My eyes had grown watery over the time stared. This was a sight I’d never be able to get used to.

Never...

Honestly. I’m scared. I’m terrified. I always saw these things on TV, Movies, Video Games, and Books and so on.

Never had I thought I’d be placed right in the center of them.

Domestic Violence.

That’s what it’s called...

Right?

I have another name for it...

Hell...

How did it begin though? It was all so gradual I can’t exactly recall the memory. I guess I’ll start from the beginning.

~*~

It all began when I was 13. My parents never paid too much attention to me. The fed me, helped me with homework, took me out every so often, bought me things when it was Christmas and my birthday and so on. They raised me well, though I always had this feeling deep within me that they didn’t really care for me. But it didn’t really bother me. It’s not like I cared for them either. I guess that’s why all three of us worked so well together. There was never a problem. Sometimes though... sometimes I did need them when I was going through a rough patch and sadly, they weren’t there to listen. I had to keep quiet. I couldn’t tell anyone the dark thoughts I’d have or the times my lunch money was stolen or when someone broke into my locker. Hah. I remember that one time I caught that football with my face and no one even bothered to ask me what happened. My parents didn’t even notice the massive bruise on my jaw. Ever since that accident my jaw always cracks when I open my mouth really wide. I might have fractured it or something. Now that I think about it, I should have gone to the dentist to get that checked out. Oh well.

They were good people though, just not the parent kind of people.

When it was getting close to my 14th birthday or what everyone called it, “birthmas”; my parents had gotten into a car accident. It was late, there was black ice all over the streets, and they were driving a little too fast and didn’t see the car coming from the side. I’m glad they died on impact though. It would have crushed me to know they suffered before dying. I mean, yeah I was sad when they died but not as sad as normal kids would have been if their parents had passed away. Wasn’t my fault that I didn’t care or love them. On the day it happened, I got a call from the hospital at around two in the morning. The only reason why I was even awake at that ungodly hour was because I had this massive Science project due the next day. Quickly after the accident, I was sent across the state to a foster home that wanted me (Sandy Springs, Georgia to Bell Flower California). More like they wanted me for a few months then gave me up so another family could take me.

I moved from so many families and so many schools. I never actually had friends with the amount of times I moved; thankfully though I wasn’t flying from country to country. I stayed in Cali, (Now I live in San Francisco) a place where I actually liked. There was this one family. What were they.... the Reis Family? Jesus Christ. That place was… Gah! What a disaster. They were a super preppy family with like five god damn brats. And the worst part was that I was always called out for my shit. They hated how I behaved, dressed, taste of music. Fucking everything that had to do with me was a big fat no no. I definitely understood why they didn’t like my sense of fashion considering I was going through one of those “Emo Fazes”. Preppies usually didn’t like Emos. Not that I really cared. Anyway, they were shitty people. The only one I could stand was the twelve year old girl called Christa. She was very sweet but super emotional. Christa always came to me with her problems when she was afraid of telling her family something; I think she thought I was her personal therapist. Like that time she told me she was Lesbian. Poor thing was in tears and that was like the only time I hugged someone without being grossed out or what not. I only stayed with that household for seven months.

There was this other family. The Bolt family. To be honest, that was the only family I could actually handle. They were all super nice and the perfect image of a family. I always felt like I ruined it. Something so bright, colourful and perfect shouldn’t be painted in black. I probably would have stayed much longer than I did (five months) if I hadn’t stolen those cigarettes from the corner store. Oops. I had run out, didn’t have the money and was really really REALLY craving a cigarette. Hell no would I have survived two weeks without one until I got my allowance. Also they probably kicked me out because they found out I was a smoker and let me rephrase, when I meant they were a perfect family, they were. No smoking, no self harm, depression, suicide. Nothing. This household was always happy and positive. Like, when Marco, who was my ‘step brother’ at the time, failed his math test, his parents were super supportive about it.

So that chapter of my life closed. I had been jumping from family to family over 3 years. No one wanted a screwed up kid. Not that I was fucked up in the head. Yeah I was depressed and had a smoking problem but that was it. Okay and maybe I was extremely antisocial. But then again, it wasn’t my fault. I was raised by uncaring parents, depressed because I couldn’t stay in one family, my self esteem also dropped because of that and I smoked as a way to keep my mind off of those things.

The last family I stayed with before running away was the Braun family. They were okay, I guess? They were some jock family. They didn’t bother me too much, which I liked. I was able to lock myself in my room, isolate myself from the world and think. Think and think about what the fuck I was going to do with the rest of my life.

 You’re probably wondering why I ran away. Well, I believed at the time that I had found the love of my life.

The way we met was probably the most stupid and embarrasing way to ever meet someone. I was busing home from school (public transit) when some tall handsome blonde guy sat down beside me. He smelt of “Le Male ‘Jean Paul Gaultier’” cologne, which I personally believe is the best smelling cologne on the market. Not too strong or too sweet. He was dressed in a sexy deep grey suit which looked slightly blue where the sun hit it. From the way the suit looked, it must have been expensive and he must have been extremely rich. There was a silver large watch hugging his wrist perfectly which screamed ‘pricey’. Sitting on his lap was one fine looking brief case. The man also had silky blonde hair with a clean undercut. What really caught my attention though were his facial features. He had bright blue eyes, thin lips that pouted slightly at the bottom, high cheekbones, and an angular jaw line. But damn... those eyebrows. How the bloody hell are they so big? It’s like someone glued two large caterpillars to his face. In general though, he’s wow. For Christ sakes, he looked like fucking Chris Evans from Captain America.

After staring at him for minutes, and observing every single feature about him, the man noticed I was looking at him, and gave me this sly look with a hot smirk. My eyes quickly darted away from him. I was so embarrassed for getting caught staring. Wasn’t my fault he was so hot. It was awkward after that but what made it worse was what he said while I was on my phone looking through my tumblr page. His exact words were “Is that gay anime por-”. I remember cutting him off by yelling “NO” really loud on the bus and everyone was looking at me. Sometimes I forget to remind myself to never go on tumblr in public....

Even thinking about it made my cheeks flush slightly.

After that horrifying experience, I saw this man everywhere. The second time he confronted me was at Starbucks. I was on my laptop working on an essay while drinking a green tea latte when the man thought it would be okay to sit in the booth with me. He introduced himself as “Erwin Smith”, and I instantly fell in love with the name. Erwin Smith. The way it rolled on my tongue was perfect. It gave Erwin a very commander feel to him. We talked for awhile. Well, more like Erwin did since I’m the most awkward piece of shit ever. But, I did get to learn quite a bit about this sexy Erwin. When he had to go, we exchanged numbers and bam. That’s how I met him. Erwin Fucking Smith. Whenever I say is name now it’s like eating raw tar.

I think it was after four months of getting to know each other we actually started dating. I couldn’t believe how fast we went. On the fifth date I ended up losing my virginity to Erwin. That had to be one of my favourite memories back then. Every kiss, every touch, it was all perfect. There was nothing I’d change. It was so intimate. I barely have the words to describe the experience. It was so much more than I thought it would be. I remember feeling extremely nervous considering I had never done anything like sex; plus I rarely played with myself so I didn’t know what I liked and didn’t like. Erwin though, he knew exactly what he was doing. And every time we had sex it was the exact same experience; feeling just like it was the first time. But now? It’s the complete opposite...

_“O-oh god s-t-t-t-stop!!”_

_..._

_“N-nmf... I-I don’t want I-I-it!!!”_

_..._

_“P-please! I-I-I promise ill b-be g-g-good! Just st- Aughh!!”_

_..._

I shivered as my fingers ran along my body. Filthy... That’s what I am... Absolute filth...

We were so perfect before. We went out on dates, cuddled on the couch while watching TV, or when he’d cook and make me try different ingredients seductively. That was supposed to bemy happy ending. Erwin was supposed to be my happy ending. Seven or eight months into our relationship, Erwin asked me to move in with him. And of course I said yes right off the bat. I ran away from my current foster parents and ended up living with my lovely and handsome boyfriend. Everything was like usual until I graduated from high school. It was then that I realised that during the summer Erwin had grown... protective? No... Possessive. That’s the word I’m looking for. The funny thing was that his possessiveness towards me developed so slow that I never really noticed. I thought he was helping me out in life and protecting me. That’s what good boyfriends are supposed to do after all.

As the months went by I gradually noticed much how tension was building up around the house and around us. It was slow at first but escalated rapidly. It was around November when it happened. The very first time. Erwin was home late and extremely pissed. I can’t recall what it was but something really bad had happened. When he came home, slamming the front door behind him, I came rushing towards Erwin from the living room. My arms wrapped around his waist tightly and I looked up at him worried while asking what happened. All I received though was a whack in the face, causing me to topple onto the floor. From that point on I couldn’t register what had happened. When I was about to get up, I was knocked down once more with a powerful kick. The kick was strong enough to flick me to the wall like a bug, my back thudding against the grey surface. Next, I remembered Erwin grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and slamming my head on the wall. He began to shout out nonsense but I can’t recall what they were. I was lost in my own thoughts, thinking to myself –what had happened to my boyfriend...?

Eventually the yelling stopped, the hands let go of my shirt and he stormed off to his office. I just sat there, blinking slowly as I stared at the other wall. I couldn’t believe what had happened. I didn’t know how to react. Do I cry? Do I call the police? Do I fight back? What was I supposed to do?!

A day after Erwin was begging for forgiveness. He said he was so sorry, that he never intended on hitting me. He was in complete tears while pleading and pleading. Erwin kept saying how much he needed me, how much he loved me. He was showing such a weak side. And you know, of course you’ll think about it; debating whether to leave or not. The problem is, if you say you’ll leave them they’ll be devastated and it would be entirely your fault. You don’t want to feel bad about it. You don’t want to have this guilt of leaving and ruining their lives. So… you stay.

I... I accepted his apology. I shouldn’t have, but I did because I loved him and he said it would never happen again. Pfft. Of course I believed him. Because I’m just so fucking stupid. Once everything was settled down, Erwin was the sweetest angel ever and acted like nothing had ever happened. Considering I didn’t want to think about it either, I pretended it hadn’t happen as well. Things were back to normal; going out for dinner, Erwin buying things for me, us spending intimate time together. We were all good and lovey-dovey again. Unfortunately, this lasted for only a month or two until the tension began to build up again. That’s how the cycle works... the tension, then the Violence, then the “Honeymoon.” I wish that the Honeymoon would last till eternity.

I’m 19 now. This relationship has been abusive emotionally and physically for the past year but I can never bring myself to dump his ass. Even when I try I don’t. Like I’ll go up to Erwin, ready to spill everything out but then my throat closes, I begin to shake and completely forget about all I was about to say. I don’t want to see him hurt... and I don’t want him to kill me. That’s something that always leaks into my train of thought. Will there ever be a day when it goes to the extreme? The day he’ll kill me with his own two hands? I can’t decide if I want that day to come sooner or later.  

God, I’m exhausted and thinking way too much at this horrific time at night. What is it now? 1:34 am? With a small sigh, I stretched out my sore arms and made my way to the door which led me to the bedroom. The moment my fingers grazed along the cold metal handle of the bathroom door, I hear the bedroom door creak open.

Fuck!!

Bad timing much!?! Shit I’m so screwed, so fucking screwed! I felt a panic attack rising within me. What was I supposed to do?! I can’t stay in the bathroom. He’ll try to open it the moment he notices I’m not in bed. I’ll probably get another beating as well for leaving bed without his permission. My heart was hitting my chest rapidly like it wanted to run off. Fuck Levi think!

...

“Levi?” Erwin’s voice was soft, gentle and caring; not like how it was hours ago. Maybe nothing will happen. M-maybe...

“Yeah...?” I opened the bathroom door slightly, the door releasing a small squeaking sound that only made me tenser. I then poked my head out. “.... I was just using the washroom...” My voice was barely there. I couldn’t even hear myself. Did I say it in my head?

“Oh god babe, your face.” Erwin rushed over to me and before he had the chance to touch me, I slammed the door in his face. “Come on Levi, please come out. I’m so so so sorry. I didn’t mean to. You know that. Just open the door and we can cuddle in bed. Please baby.” His voice wavered with worry, sorrow and regret. This is when the honeymoon begins. As if none of this ever fucking happened. Ugh, I’m way too tired to be arguing. Reluctantly I opened the door and felt a strong pair of arms wrap around my thin frame. Erwin buried his face in my neck and I could feel tears run down the exposed skin. I closed my eyes and eventually relaxed in his grip.

“Let’s...... Let’s go to bed.... please...”

“Of course, you need it the most.” Erwin smiled at me and ended up picking me up and bringing me to our bed.

Our...

My body gently met the bed, sinking in slightly as the foam mattress slightly memorized my weight and shape. It was cold now since I had left it 20 minutes ago, though it would warm up in no time. He tucked me in and soon joined my side, pulling me into his arms and nuzzling my broken body. His warmth eased the emotional pain and the new mental scars that had been made tonight. Erwin placed affectionate kisses along my neck. His lips are always so soft and warm, something I need in a time like this.

I was positive I heard his whisper “I’m sorry” with each kiss but I didn’t put any attention to that. All I needed to do was sleep everything off. Tomorrow... Or today... Whatever the fucking time is... It’ll be a new day. The cycle restarts tomorrow. And with that thought, I drifted off into the land of slumber or.... That street...

 

_....So..... We’re here again aren’t we...Huh..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Taste of the other's life...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYYYYYYY GUYSSSSSSSSSS~~~~~~~
> 
> SO as you can tell this is a super early update! We've been way to excited and decided to upload chapter 2 early :D  
> Thanks to everyone who's read it, left kudos and more. it means a lot and we hope that the love keeps growing *^* anyways, Enjoy!
> 
> (Trigger Warning)

Chapter 2

 

Eren’s P.O.V

 

I woke up with a start. I had fallen asleep again. Damn it. Though in all honesty, it was of no fault of mine. The human body requires sleep, I remember reading that somewhere, and apparently it is impossible not to.

How useless.

I was in bed, though I don’t remember dragging myself to it, and covered with a twisted, thin sheet. He must have done that. He can be so nice at times. So, so nice…

I felt myself falling asleep again. I mentally slapped myself and sat up in bed, but I miscalculated the way the sheet was all around me and nearly choked myself. I sat, mystified at the feeling and contemplated just letting the sheet choke me in to unconsciousness again. After all, he couldn’t blame me for it. Or maybe he could…? With that thought in mind, I slowly tore the sheet away from my throat; another action to be done in this wretched today.

I turned my head to look at the clock that should have been on the bedside table, but then I remembered that it was broken. Not that it matted, he would buy a new one. He hated to have anything out of place. Perhaps he would get a digital clock this time, though I wonder if he purposely bought the ticking ones to annoy me. I sighed. Even though I knew I would have a clock as soon as he came home, the fact is that I am now ignorant of the time.

Fuck. This was another quirk of his. He loved to play with all aspects of me, and that included my mind. Hah, As if my soul wasn’t already sold to him. As if I had anywhere to go. As if I cared about a single moment in this wretched today. Then again, it wouldn’t be so wretched if I actually didn’t care.

Nothing mattered.

Nothing matters anyway.

Nothing matters.

At all.

And with that thought, I felt myself drifting off to sleep again.

Fuck this stupid human body.

And as I slept, I dreamed…

~*~

 

_I looked at my surroundings._

_I was standing in the middle of a street, on the sides of which were bland, monotone buildings. I couldn’t quite tell what kind of buildings they were, because for some odd reason, I couldn’t seem to focus on them._

_I stood there awhile. I, or at least, I in my dream, for this was a dream, seemed to be waiting for something or maybe, someone...?_

_But as there was no one in the middle of this cold, lonely, silent street, I wondered who I was waiting for._

_I was there a long, long time._

_So long..._

_~*~_

 

I woke for the second time in today. But no, no, it was today no longer. I could feel it, though I had no clock to confirm it by. By the terms of yesterday, ‘today’ is now ‘tomorrow’.

But by the terms of ‘today’… ‘today’ is now today.

I was forever stuck in this everlasting loop of time…

I laughed to myself. What a joke. Where did all that philosophy come from, Eren? What a joke. I must be going crazy. Going crazy…

Laughing, out loud this time, I said, “I must be going crazy,” and started laughing again, as if something extremely funny had happened. After a while, the laughter died down and I became quiet again, but it soon became obvious by my deep breathing that I had fallen asleep, for the first time today.

_~*~_

 

_I was on the street again, the same street I had saw last time, only now, it was crowded and full of people. I immediately went into shock, freezing in place. Where was he? He couldn’t possibly have given me permission to show myself to others! I have to find him! No! I have to get back home! That's, right, I, have to, get, home…Nonononono._

_This couldn’t possibly be happening, right? First of all, I didn’t even possess the keys to the inside lock of the house, so there would have been no possible way that I could have gotten out, right? And in this street, that makes no sense, right? Right?_

_Besides, I noted to myself as I started to calm down, the people weren’t even paying the slightest attention to me. During my panic attack, I had frozen in the middle of a street full of people, and none of them even gave me a glance. Rather, it was as if I didn’t exist at all… There was only one possible explanation for this, and that was that this could only be a dream._

_A dream…_

_It ought to have been obvious, seeing how I had the exact same dream just a while ago._

_A while ago?_

_When was that, I wonder… It could have been hours ago and it could have been years. My sense of time slowed in this place… It slowed… and allowed me to forget…_

_But what was I forgetting about anyway? Oh well, it couldn’t have been that important, as I had forgotten it so quickly. So instead I focused again on my surroundings._

_It had changed again during my internal battle and the street was just as silent and lonely as the first time I saw it. The only difference is that now, I could see the buildings bordering the street as well._

_They were plain and white washed. There was nothing really of notice in any of the buildings individually, but as they were all place rather close to each other, the effect was rather comical. I saw on my right a skyscraper right next to a small petite house with a picket fence, and I held back a laugh._

_It wasn’t only that however and in addition I also saw a classic townhouse with a rather absurd looking drab gray triangle church next to it. Next to that was the picturesque vacation home, and so on. It would have made a nice tourist spot if they weren’t all so monotone and devoid of colour._

_Although the buildings were all a very curious sight to see, I found myself drawn back to the little house with the picket fence. I wasn’t quite sure what it was that made the house so special until I got a little closer to it._

_The house had no windows, no chimneys, not even a door. On closer inspection I realised that it couldn’t really be called a house in all the sense of the word, for there was no ways to get in. I felt rather sorry for the little house that couldn’t be called a house, and immediately felt silly in doing so. It was just a ‘house’ after all._

_But still, I drew closer and placed my hand against the wall, as if the door might have been hiding somewhere. I blinked._

_I was not quite sure how I knew, but I was certain that I was now inside in little house without a door._

_There were mirrors everywhere._

_Actually, that wasn’t quite true, as there was only one mirror that surrounded me on all sides. It seemed that the little house was completely lined with a giant mirror cube. The walls were of mirror, the floor was of mirror and upon looking up, and I found that the ceiling was of mirror as well._

_Fuck me._

_I was in a room with no exit with my worst enemy._

_Truly and fully, fuck my life, or rather, my dream._

_I hated mirrors, not because they showed me what I looked like, but because they couldn’t possibly show me what I looked like._

_In the mirrors, I was a collage or uni student, with a girlfriend maybe, and a bit on the mysterious side with my hair all long and what not._

_I was not that person, yet that was all the mirrors can show me._

_I smiled a bitter smile, and all of the other ‘me’s’ in the mirrors smiled as well. I lifted a finger to my face and then ran a hand through my hair. The others did the same. I was now cupping my neck; down my battered and dirty t-shirt and to my back. The scars were there to greet me. I couldn’t see them, and I couldn’t bear to see them, but I felt them. The lumps and the thin lines that I knew were drawn into a map down my back. He always did have a strange sense of humor._

_Then I couldn’t reach any further down so I stopped, and slowly drew my hands away. The others did the same. Of course they did the same. But their actions seemed to mock me. That normal 26 year old college student I saw couldn’t possibly have any scars on his back. Couldn’t possibly have the fucking map of London engraved onto it. And I was mad. Mad that the others that I saw so crudely mimicked my actions, mad that they mocked me with their faces that were so much like mine and yet so different. Mad that I couldn’t be like them. Mad that I couldn’t possibly ever get the chance to be them, even for a day. An hour. A minute. For crying out loud, even a second._

_I would trade years of my life to just be them for a minute._

_But that wouldn’t ever be possible._

_And all of my anger melts into self-pity and I collapse in the middle of that mirrored room, in the middle of that little house without a door, beside that little street that used to so full of people. People I would never be._

_The others collapse with me._

_I screamed._

_Oh my god._

_Have mercy on me._

~*~

 

When I woke up, I thought I was still dreaming. It was so dark. But then I realised that there was a cloth wrapped around my eyes, which I thought was the sheet. It was when I moved my hand to move the sheet that I heard him speak. Fuck my life.

Because of the broken clock, I had lost track of time.

Because I couldn’t set an alarm.

Because I couldn’t sleep last night.

Because I was bad.

Because I disappointed him.

“Falling asleep when I’m not there? What a bad child.” Fuck. He was on the other side of the room when he said that, but I could hear him walk closer. Tap. Tap. Tap. He never took off his shoes inside, in spite of the floor, which was carpet. The footsteps stopped rather close to me; he must be by the bed. I think I was trembling.

“Are you listening, Eren?” Fuck. “Well?” Even though I knew he was expecting an answer, I couldn’t speak because I was trembling so hard. I heard the ruffling sound of cloth. “Well?” He sat on the bed. Oh God. I felt a hand tugging at the sheet which this morning I thought was so useless. It was my only armor too.

“S-stop!” I cried. The hand stopped. It was placed on my chest. My heart was beating so violently, I thought that at any moment it would just burst right out of my chest. He must have felt it, for his hand with drew. I thought for a moment I was safe.

The sheet was thrown off my face, and I froze with my eyes wide open before I had the common sense to squeeze them shut. There was a moment of silence. I was still trembling when he put his hands to my face and gently cupped them.

It was such a strange moment. I was in bed with the sheet half throw off with him stroking my hair, as if he were comforting a child from a bad dream. No. I was a child to him, and every moment of this today was a nightmare.

“Were you scared, Eren?” He said that while lovingly putting his hand through my hair. It was such a soft, sweet, voice. Like the voice of an angel. But I have long since known to guard myself from that sound. “I’m sorry if I scared you… Open your eyes, darling.”

I kept them shut. Even though I knew to guard myself against that sound, I still craved it, and if I opened my eyes, the dream would be truly over.

“Eren…” His voice was like a child who wished forgiveness from his mother. Such a honeyed voice… Yes, his voice was honey, and I was the little fly that flew into his trap. He had to stop talking. No, no, don’t stop talking. The two voices in my head fought against each other. Stop. Don’t stop.

“Please, Eren, I know you’re mad at me, but give me a chance to apologize!” I nearly started laughing. Really now? Can you honestly not hear yourself? How many times have you said that before? He’s like a broken robot. A broken robot that could only say the same words over and over again. And yet every time I listen. Not this time, I decided. This time, I would wait. He’ll get tired of this, and he’ll leave, going to mind his own business, if only I could hold on long enough.

“Please, open your eyes and talk to me, Eren.” Oh god. His voice, so pleading, so desperate. If I refuse him now I would regret it for the rest of my life... that was what his voice was doing to me. Stop…Please stop, I pleaded in my mind, for I didn’t have the courage to speak. But this time was going to end like all the other times, I knew as soon as the next words left his lips.

“Talk to me, kitten, please.”

I slowly opened my eyes, and looked at him. And just like all the other times, I was struck by how beautiful he was. He was making that desperate and pleading look. That look made me want to jump up and hug him and cry, you can’t make that look with your beautiful face, but I controlled myself. It wasn’t because I had very good self-control, though I wish it was. No, it wasn’t that, for at the moment I opened my eyes, his face lit up with pleasure and happiness, and it was… That kind of beauty blinds, you know, and I couldn’t help but smile, for it would have been a crime not to.

This was the man who was my boyfriend.

This was my angel.

This was my hell.

~*~

 

He took me out to dinner in order to apologize, and as he had put it, tonight, I would be in charge.

I knew better, but as much as I wanted to hate him, I couldn’t, for the entire time we were out he wore that beautiful happy expression. That man was impossible to hate. Besides, he actually took me out for once, so I didn’t really hold anything against him. Also, it would be a waste to not enjoy this peace while it lasts.

We went to a little family restaurant on the corner of the street we lived on, and even though we’ve been there a hundred times before.

We went there every time we had a ‘honeymoon’ as some people put it, but I didn’t complain because I didn’t want to upset him, for even though he wouldn’t really do anything to me outside, who knows what he’ll do at home. Besides, these ‘honeymoons’ were becoming few and far between and I wanted to relish in the time I had.

The whole world seems to be against me though.

All was fine when we entered the little place. The manager recognized us and said hello, and put us in this little spot in the corner of the room. That was the first straw for him.

I should explain.

The first time we came here, we were put next to the window. It was the best spot in the restaurant as it was one of the only places you could look outside in the small place. He must have liked it a lot, for the next time we went, he asked for the same spot. As time went by, that became the customary spot for us.

He is very possessive, I should mention.

Very, very possessive.

So, he called one of the waitresses over and mentioned that we would like the spot by the window.

She was rather confused as it was quite obvious that the spot was occupied by another pair of people, and they didn’t seem to be anywhere near finishing yet. He seemed to be in a good mood though, and he quickly understood that it was impossible and asked for our menus instead.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I held.

But like I said, the whole world seemed to be against me that day, and things didn’t stop there.

When it came time to order, he ordered himself pasta with shrimp and ordered me a chicken and Caesar salad. Naturally, I didn’t argue. After we, or rather he, ordered, we sat there waiting for our food and he told me about all the things that happened to him at work. He was in the middle of telling a boring story about his boss when the waitress came. I would have been grateful to her only she didn’t exactly have good news.

It was late in the day and was nearing the restaurant’s closing so what she said was completely understandable.

“I’m very sorry sir, but the kitchen has no more shrimp,” she said nervously, “but we can substitute it with scallops, or you can order another dish…” She trailed off when she saw his look. His expression had done a complete 360 from his first expression upon entering the restaurant. He stood up abruptly, stormed away and scaring all of the customers as well as many staff, left without saying a word.

I said my apologies (the irony) and quickly followed him out.

Why did the fucking place have to run out of shrimp on today, off all days?!

I was so fucked.

~*~

 

His anger is not like most people’s anger. It was a silent, fuming mist, choking all those in his path.

I got home and found him standing in the middle of the living room. He had taken his shoes off.

“Strip.” It was a command, not like one you would expect of someone who was bursting with anger. No, it was a command from a general to his soldier, and his order was followed without question.

I had actually taken the time to dress myself up before going out, and maybe it was because I was taking too long or maybe because he was really and truly mad, he started before I had even gotten my shirt off.

A kick placed in the middle of stomach landed me on the wall. I crumbled against it and lay motionless on the floor. As much as I hated admitting it, I knew him, and the less I struggled, the less I spoke, the faster I would get it over with. So I just lay there.

I was kicked, trampled, and pounded upon. I didn’t move. After he was done with stepping all over my heart, he flipped me over with another kick to the opposite wall and started attacking my back.

He never used his hands. He never touched my face. He never kicked with his shoes on.

As I lay there, contemplating my situation as if I was just a spectator from one side of a glass window, I realised something.

In some twisted part of his mind, he still loved me. I don’t mean the possessiveness he has towards me. I mean love. The kind that I fell, head first, into years ago. He still cherishes my face. He had a carpet put in even though he never takes his shoes off inside. He never hits hard enough to break, never enough to draw blood. But always bruise.

And I lay there, not quite feeling the kicks that seemed to be coming through a giant blanket, I realised something.

But just at that moment, he stopped. Silence and then–

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He had put his shoes on again.

It was over.

               

And The pain began.

~*~

_This time, the dream started with the house. The house was different this time. It had a door. All the easier to get in._

_I did not want to be in that house._

_But my body doesn’t listen to me in my dream, and I find myself moving closer and closer to it._

_No…_

_But I was already there. My hand was already touching the door. Moving towards the door knob, and–_

_I blinked._

_I was again in a room with my worst enemy. For some reason, I found this fact to be extremely funny. I laughed, and all the others laughed with me. I laughed until my laughter turned to howling. The others did the same._

_The howling turned to screaming._

_The screams turned to tears._

_And all the others cried with me, and again, I felt the mockery of the mirrors. However, the feeling this time was dull, and I eventually dried my tears in the middle of that mirrored room._

_I looked at myself again, for there was really nowhere else to look. I still looked the same. The battered t-shirt, the jeans, the long, shaggy hair. But this time, I thought I looked different somehow, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it._

_It took a while of me having a staring contest with myself before I could put my finger on the strange feeling. Although I haven’t changed and the mirrors and the me’s in the mirrors haven’t changed, I felt that my reflections actually reflected me for once._

_Just as thought that, I heard a crack behind me, and I turned around._

_At first, I thought I had just imagined the sound, but then I found a little spot in the mirror that didn’t reflect anything._

_I stepped closer to it._

_There was a crack in the mirror._

_The wall behind the mirror seemed to be blue, though I really couldn’t tell because the crack only revealed a space the size of my thumb nail. I was still studying but stopped when I heard another, much louder sound._

_I whirled around._

_A piece of mirror, all the size of a thumb nail had fallen off all the walls at the exact same spot as the mirror I had just been looking at._

_How strange._

_How strange._

~*~

 

I was being carried in a pair of strong arms that I knew where his. He carefully put me on the bed and, just as carefully, put the thin sheet on me as well. He can be so, so nice at times…

I then heard him, for I was too tired and in too much pain to open my eyes, walk around the bed and lie down on the other side of me. The bed springs creaked against his weight.

I tensed.

I soon realised, however, that his recent burst had tired him as much as it tired me, and I heard his breathing become soft and deep.

The angel had fallen asleep and his anger was abated till tomorrow morning, but I don’t relax. I can’t relax, even though I am so, so tired.

Now that I’m awake, I can’t force myself to sleep again, for the habit of forcing my eyelids open night after night has engraved itself into a habit. Just like how he had engraved the map of London on to my back one night after he had learned my dream was to go to university of England. I could never sleep after that.

So I lay awake on the bed thinking stupid thoughts and thinking about all the things that had gone wrong that day. That goes wrong every day.

And just as I feel myself drifting off in spite of my inability to sleep most nights, I think back to when I laid on the floor.

I realised he loved me. And I thought, I remembered the broken thought that was never completed.

I realised that I loved him back.

I couldn’t sleep after that.

And as I listened to his breathing, I realised something else.

I was very much envious of him and for such a petty thing too.

I was jealous that he could sleep so soundly, jealous of the fact that he would never have to lie awake every night. That he would fall asleep and then wake up tomorrow and start a new day.

I could never have that. I could never have the feeling of a fresh start, of a new tomorrow.

How could I?

Today never ended.

 

~*~

 

_I was in the dream again, but this time, I felt a kind of peaceful feeling that I didn’t have the first three times I came here. Was it only three times? It must have been, for I remember that the first time I had entered with lethargy. The second time with fear and shock. The third, despair. But wait, that last time wasn’t all despair, was it? Then again, I can’t remember what made it that way. Oh well, if I had forgotten it so easily, it must have not been very important anyway._

_I was in the middle of the street this time, but unlike before, the street wasn’t empty, and nor was it crowded._

_The street was half filled with people in white masks, and upon touching my face, I realised that I was in a mask as well._

_How strange._

_Even more strange was the fact that the sides of the street were now completely lined with little, door-less houses. As I watched, the masked figures went to the houses, and upon touching the wall, disappeared. They were soon all gone_

_How very strange._

_As I stood there, I again felt the same feeling of waiting as I felt the first time I was on this street. Waiting… For whom?_

_And just as the ‘I’ in my dream began to despair, I thought I felt someone staring at me. I turned around slowly._

_There was someone in the middle of the street, just like I was. He was wearing a white mask, just like I was. And some sense told me that this was the person I was waiting for._

_But as I watched, the person started walking to one of the little houses on the side of the street. I tried to move, but I was frozen in my spot again. I could only watch that black haired person touch the side of the house, and disappear._

_You wouldn’t be able to even start to imagine the sense of loneliness I was filled with._

_Who was this person?_

_What was he doing in my dream?_

_And why did I feel so lost when he left?_

_I couldn’t answer any of these questions. I could only stand in the middle of that cold, lonely, silent, and now isolated street._


End file.
